A Pocket Full of Mumbles Such are Promises
by GLuisa88
Summary: Dean left his family when he was 18. 8 years later he is living the apple-pie life with a woman that he loves and their two children, until his estranged brother Sam comes to ask for his help in the search for their father.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **A Pocket Full of Mumbles (Such are promises)

**Beta:** Beckalooby

**Characters/Pairings: **Dean, Sam, John, Bobby, OFC. Dean/OFC.

**Summary: **For LJ Hoodie-Time h/c Fic & Art Challenge. Prompt- _Dean left his family when he was 18. 8 years later he is living the apple-pie life with a woman that he loves and their two children, until his estranged brother Sam comes to ask for his help in the search for their father. Dean disappears with his brother and isn't heard from again, until he suddenly returns 3 years later. Battered and broken on his family's doorstep… _

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warnings:** Language, angst, mild innuendo, emotionally abusive!John, character deaths (canon deaths done in non-canon ways)

**A/N: **This is virtually completed, so I will post the chapters several days apart. Might be about three chapters long. Maybe four.

When Dean was four years old his grandfather gave him a cap gun for his birthday. His still shell-shocked, ex-Marine father pried it from his hands and said that no son of his was going to be playing with guns. But it was only hours later that Dean had managed to build the Legos- gifted to him by his dad- into the shape of a shotgun and was running around the house pointing it at people until they'd pretend to be dead. He wanted to be cowboy when he grew up, he'd told his family with a wide grin as he pointed his toy at the neighbor's cat.

When he was five years old he wanted to be a fireman. He dreamed of riding around in a big red truck, with the brightly flashing lights and ear piercing siren. And maybe if he was a fireman, he would be able to keep other mommies from dying by the same flames that had taken away his.

When he was seven he decided he would be a superhero when he grew up. Just like daddy and just like batman. Dad would occasionally bring home comic books that he'd find for a dime at a thrift shop and Dean would dream of having similar adventures to the ones he'd read about. In his dreams Sammy was always the damsel who needed rescuing from the monstersthat threatened him.

Dean was ten years old and old enough to be left alone with his younger brother in his care. That's what Dad figured. John left with the promise of being gone for no more than two days. But two days turned into three, turned into five and it wasn't until a week later that Dad returned. At ten years old, Dean just wanted to be grown up already. Doing the job of a thirty year old, it was a frustration to be trapped in the body of a ten year old. To have the job of watching out for and taking care of his baby brother without the means to do so. To have to watch his baby brother cry himself to sleep at night because there wasn't much food left and Dean was just trying to make it stretch another day.

Sixteen years old and killing his first monster. It was a rush like he'd never felt before. The adrenaline, the danger, the power. This was what his future looked like and it looked good. To be the feared instead of the fearful was like a drug.

Twenty years old and in love and oh God, help him, because he got her pregnant and shitshitshit, because now what is he supposed to do? He's Dean Winchester, he doesn't love, he kills. It's who he is. And he has a responsibility to watch out for Sammy but now he's brought an innocent life into the world and if he doesn't do it, then who is going to make sure this child of his is protected from the dark?

Sam doesn't even know he's doing it, but he releases Dean when one night he confides, "I hate this life. I hate dad for raising us this way. Soon as I'm old enough, I'm getting outta this freak show. Gonna go to college and be normal."

Dean's already told Jocelyn goodbye- hardest thing he ever had to do- and he wonders if she'll take him back. Because Sam doesn't need him, doesn't want him and when Sam leaves, Dean will have nothing. Hunting will mean nothing because he was only ever killing monsters for Sam's sake.

He called her and told her he wanted back in. Told her he wanted to be there for her and he wouldn't screw this up. She told him, "no way in Hell." She wasn't going to let him break her heart twice. And so he figured he would just have to change her mind.

...

Dean couldn't say that he wasn't having second thoughts. He couldn't say that he knew beyond a doubt that he was making the right choice.

Sam had understood, had even offered his support. But behind Sam's words of encouragement, Dean could see hurt. Maybe even a little bit of fear. Hurt that the brother who was more like a father than his actual father, was leaving. Fear of what would happen to him without Dean there to have his back.

Dean wanted to be pissed about the hurt that Sam wouldn't speak of.

Damn it.

Why did Sam think he was the only one who could seek a life outside of the one their revenge- driven father had chosen for them? Why was Sam allowed to ditch his family for college but Dean wasn't allowed to keep the family he'd helped create? And why did Sam think that what was okay for him wasn't okay for Dean?

Dean wanted to be pissed but all he felt was guilty.

He hated this, hated that he couldn't have it all. Couldn't have a kid without having to choose between said child and his brother Sam.

Why did he have to? Why did he have to choose?

"Sam, come with me." Dean said one night, long after they were both supposed to be asleep.

There was a heavy pause and Dean wondered if Sam had heard him.

"Really?" Sam asked, finally.

"Why not?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah." Sam paused. "Yeah."

...

But the next day, Sam told Dean that he'd thought it over and changed his mind. Dean was shocked that Sam would pass up an opportunity to finish up highschool in a stable environment.

Sam smiled and said, "Dad needs me here."

Yeah. Right.

Sam had spent a sleepless night thinking things through. He'd come to the conclusion that Dean didn't need his pain in the ass kid brother tagging along, being nothing more than a third wheel. Dean was building a new life and the reality was that there would be no room there for Sam.

He kept this to himself because there was no reason to make Dean feel guilty.

...

The thing Dean was most worried about, what kept him awake at night, was how to tell Dad. He ran through his mind every possible way he could think of to break the news gently to his father. It would take a great deal of tact and diplomacy. Both of which he realized he had very little of.

Though he probably wouldn't get a chance to try out any of his arguments. Probably wouldn't get a chance to get past, "Dad, I got a girl pregnant." before his dad clocked him one.

So maybe the best tactic would be to drop the bomb and run. "Dad, I'm leaving." Duck and cover.

"Just pack up and leave in the middle of the night." Sam suggested. "S'what I'd do."

...

Dean started with the 'easy' part first. Wouldn't mention the part where he says "I'm leaving" until after Dad had time to digest the pregnant part.

John muttered something about Dean not being able to keep it in his pants. Looked like he was going to put his fist through a wall, instead washed a fistful of aspirin down with whiskey.

Finally, with a calmness that Dean had not been anticipating, said, "Well, what can you do? You're never gonna see her again. Don't want you thinking I don't give a shit, Dean, but it's not like you have anything to give her. Should'a kept her legs together." He shrugged, taking another swig of whiskey.

Dean stared, clamped his mouth shut before he said something he would regret. Didn't know how to respond.

Sam did, "That's shit!" He said under his breath.

Dad whirled around to face Sam, "What was that you said, smartass?" As if he hadn't heard.

Dean could see where this was headed and he wondered if, when he left, Dad and Sam would finally kill each other off. It wasn't as if they didn't try but Dean had always been there to drag them to separate corners.

"No!" Dean said, maneuvering in between them , "You're not starting this." He shoved Sam into a chair. "Sit down and shut your mouth. Or better yet, you can take a walk."

Sam smirked angrily, "Yeah, no. I don't think so. You're gonna want me around for this." He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair.

"Yeah, well then shut your mouth... and you too, Dad."

...

"If you wanna choose some slut you knew for a few months over your flesh and blood then go ahead, I won't stop you." John was in Dean's face now, "But if you go, don't even _think_ of coming back!"

Dean leaned back from his dad's hot breath in his face, "Damn it dad, lay off the onions, would'ja?" And as he said it he realized it was probably not the best thing to say.

John grabbed Dean's shirt collar, "You think this is funny? You think I'm joking? "

And no he hadn't but he was just trying not to cry.

John yelled, ranted until he was hoarse. By the time he was exhausted Dean was wishing that Dad would have just punched him. Bruises would heal.

At this point he wasn't sure that he could ever look his father in the eye again.

...

"So, uh, don't be a stranger." Sam said looking down, scuffling his shoes.

Dean couldn't meet Sam's eyes, "Hey." He looked as if he was trying to decide what he was going to say, but instead he grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him into a hug. It was an unexpected and unusual display of emotion. "So man," he said finally, "So I'll get myself a phone and I'll call you. Give you the number... and I'll give you my new address when I have one."

Sam nodded and tried to turn his head so Dean wouldn't see the tears. Of course Dean saw them. "Sammy, don't cry! Please don't do that!" He begged.

"'M'not crying!" Sam blinked back tears and smiled tightly.

Dean huffed, "Yeah, right. You're the biggest girl I've ever seen! You'll see me all the time- I swear, you won't get rid of me that easily!"

"You're leaving man, you're gonna be hundreds of miles away. It's just not gonna be the same."

"Don't, Sam. Please. Just don't." Dean said quietly.

"Don't what?"

"You're going to college man, you can't wait to ditch this 'freak show'." Dean quoted Sam's words. "Two years and you'll be gone. I'm just supposed to sit around and wait for you to leave us?"

"What? Dean! Where is this coming from?"

"This guilt trip you're putting on me is bullshit! I asked you to come with me but you give me some lame ass excuse about Dad needing you- as if you even give a shit! I'm just trying to do the right thing here and dad kicks me out- you sit and cry like I'd just killed your puppy- I don't need this... I can't deal with this-"

"Just shut up Dean! I'm not trying to make you feel guilty! I get it, Dean, I really do, but you're my brother and I'm sorry if I can't be cool with this!"

...

It was about half way to Des Plaines, Illinois when he pulled his car over to a rest stop and found himself some food and a payphone. Dialed Sam's number. Wanted to apologize for his earlier meltdown. Wanted to know how Sam and Dad were doing.

He let it ring twice before hanging up.

He didn't think he'd be able to talk to Sam without breaking down and he didn't want Sam to see him that way. He would call Sam later. When things were a little bit more settled and he had something more to say than, "I'm a moron, Sam!"

He'd left his family for a girl who may not even want him. What the hell was he doing?

...

He showed up at her door and she didn't slam it in his face. She put the flowers he brought her in the trash because she said the smell made her sick.

But "strangely enough," she said, "Chocolate doesn't make me feel in the slightest bit nauseous."

Dean made a mental note of this and said, "Really? Well that's a lucky break for you! Like... all kinds of chocolate? Peanut butter? Mint? Cherry?"

"Oh yes." She said.

"All of it's good?"

"Oh yes. Yes."

...

He lived in his car for nearly a month until Josie found out. She was furious with him for not telling her that he couldn't afford somewhere to live.

He shrugged, "Not a big deal." He told her. Didn't know how to explain that his home had always been his car anyway. "I'm looking for work. Soon as I get a job I'll be able to find an apartment."

"You can live at my place." She offered. "S'long as you sleep on the couch and don't try anything funny."

"I don't know if I can do that." He warned.

He called Sam to let him know how to reach him if he needed to but the number had been disconnected. He dialed it again because maybe he had misdialed.

But all he got was another robotic message telling him the same thing as before.

...

Josie's mom's name was Kay. She had died in a car crash when Josie was fifteen. Josie had always been very close to her mother and wanted to name their daughter after her.

Dean wanted to name the baby Mary, after his mother, who he had never had the chance to be very close to.

So he suggested a compromise, "How about Kay Mary? Or... Mary Kay?"

Josie had laughed, "I'm not naming my kid after my makeup, Deano!"

"Wha... Seriously? Makeup? Damn. So I guess Maybelline is out of the question too?" And he was kinda proud that he'd known what Maybelline was.

...

Sometimes when thoughts of Sammy and Dad and demons and fire kept him awake at night, he would go out to the garage and curl up in the back seat of the Impala. It felt like home.

And if Jocelyn minded she never said a word. Maybe would kiss him a little harder the next morning.

As if perhaps she thought he wanted to leave.

Though she never asked. Never asked why he had come back to her and why he stuck around. Maybe because she was afraid of what his answer would be. Afraid that he would say he loved her, would have come back with or without the baby, and she would be able to see the lie in his eyes.

He wished she would ask Wished he could tell her how that he really did loved her but sometimes he just missed his family. His _other _family. Because now he had two.

Sometimes shit happens but that doesn't mean that shit can't turn out to be the best thing that's ever happened.

...

_Roxanne/ You don't have to put on the red light/ Those days are over/ You don't have to sell your body to the night/ Roxanne..._

The windows rolled down, the wind blowing through their hair. The Police singing on the radio.

Dean grinned as Josie reached over and turned the volume up.

Dean had been appalled at Josie's lack of classic rock knowledge when he'd first met her. He had vowed to change that. She'd dug in her heels a bit, told him his music was crap, written by a bunch of hippies, strung out on drugs. He'd laughed and told her that's what made it so awesome.

"You like this song?" He asked her.

Josie rolled her eyes, "They did it better in Moulin Rouge. But this guy isn't bad."

Dean choked, "...'This guy'? You mean Sting?"

She laughed, "Rooxaaanne" shouting with the music.

He grinned. "So how about 'Roxanne Kay'?"

"What?"

"For a name. 'Roxanne Kay'. Kinda cute, huh?"

"No. _Hell _no! I'm not naming my daughter after a prostitute!"

"Roxie?"

"No Dean." She laughed. "Ass." She said under her breath. He only grinned wider.

...

Charlotte ('Charly') Ellen Riley-Winchester was born on December 17, 1999. Born nearly a month early. Weight: 6lbs 1oz and 18" long.

She was perfect.

...

Josie didn't want to get married pregnant. She said it would look like they were a couple of teenaged hicks getting married with a rifle at their backs.

She asked for his guest list and he kept putting it off. Well, not the getting a guest list together part, but the telling her that he didn't have a guests to make a list of part.

And so when she found out, she tore up her entire list and told him that they could get married in front of a justice of the peace if he wished.

He kissed her nose and said, "That's stupid."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **A Pocket Full of Mumbles (Such are promises)

**Beta:** Beckalooby

**Characters/Pairings: **Dean, Sam, John, Bobby, OFC. Dean/OFC.

**Summary: **For LJ Hoodie-Time h/c Fic & Art Challenge. Prompt- _Dean left his family when he was 18. 8 years later he is living the apple-pie life with a woman that he loves and their two children, until his estranged brother Sam comes to ask for his help in the search for their father. Dean disappears with his brother and isn't heard from again, until he suddenly returns 3 years later. Battered and broken on his family's doorstep… _

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warnings:** Language, angst, mild innuendo, emotionally abusive!John, character deaths (canon deaths done in non-canon ways)

* * *

><p>There was a time when Dean thought he saw his dad's truck at nearly every stop light. When he'd see Sammy sitting in the backseat of random, non-descript cars he'd pass on the freeway, see him sitting on a bench at a bus stop, or hanging on the arm of a skinny blonde at the mall. But when he'd turn his head, Sam would vanish and in his place would be a shaggy-haired, pimple faced teen who looked nothing at all like Dean's brother.<p>

Dean's chest would ache and he'd wonder what Sam was up to and if he was okay.

At the wedding he kept watching for Sam. Half expecting to see his brother there, wearing a cheap suit and a smile a mile wide. Teasing him about his tux, about being a dad and about getting _married_.

One of Josie's cousins had shaggy brown hair and a build similar to Sam's. Made Dean double take when he first saw the kid from behind. Made his heart stop for a moment.

Sam should be there and Dean didn't know why he wasn't. Didn't know why he couldn't reach his brother anymore.

...

Dean called Bobby. It had been years since he'd last seen the man he had once viewed as a second father. That was until John and Bobby had some sort of falling out. Dad would never give a straight answer when Dean would ask what it had been about.

Said something about the bastard shooting at him with a rifle, telling him to never come near his house again.

Dean assumed that he, by extension, was no longer welcome either.

"Hey Bobby, it's Dean- wait, don't hang up on me- I gotta talk to you."

"Son of a bitch." Bobby exclaimed, "I haven't heard from you in years. How are you and Idjit 2 doing?"

Dean paused, shocked by the warmth in Bobby's voice, "Uhh... I uh... I thought you weren't speaking to me..."

"Well of all the... what would give you that idea?"

"Dad told me what happened between you two... well not exactly, but he told me you chased him away with a gun."

"'Cause your dad's a jackass. You and that brother of yours, however, are always welcome... don't know what that sonuvabitch told you happened, but it ain't got nothin' to do with you." Dean cleared his throat and Bobby continued, "Now you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yeah, well, it's kind of a long story, but short of it is, I got kicked out. I'm living in Illinois and I haven't heard from Dad or Sammy in months. I was talking to Sam quite a bit but then one day I called and the number was disconnected and-"

"Whoa, back up! What happened?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm calling you!"

"No, why were you kicked out?"

Dean paused uncomfortably, "Bobby, I just wanna know if you've heard from my dad."

Bobby sighed, "No. I haven't. I'm sorry, son."

"Okay." Dean said quietly, finding it hard to speak around the lump in his throat, "Okay. Well, if you do, could you call me? Or give Sam my number?"

"Of course. You know I will. Now tell me what happened."

A week later, Bobby showed up unexpectedly, saying it was about time he got to meet his 'granddaughter'. Dean couldn't believe how good it was to see the man again. To see a familiar face for the first time in a year.

"She's got my eyes, Bobby." Dean pointed out, his eyes bright.

"So she does. Poor thing." Bobby chuckled.

Dean laughed too- perhaps a little more hysterically than the joke called for- but he was just so damn proud of his daughter. So damn excited to be showing her off to Bobby.

"At least she didn't get Sammy's ears." He said, his smile a little wistful.

...

Dean smiled till his face hurt and by the time Bobby left, felt more at peace than he had in a long time.

Bobby kept in touch after that. Charly had adored Bobby (or perhaps it was his beard) and Bobby had fallen in love with Charly. His 'granddaughter' as he referred to her. She was naturally a quiet baby but whenever Bobby was around she would laugh and babble like she wouldn't do for anyone else. Dean pretended to be jealous when Bobby and Josie teased him about how Charly loved Bobby more.

Dean insisted it was because Bobby was secretly spiking her formula with bourbon. "Yeah," He snorted, "I'd love the guy who kept me supplied with alcohol too! Let's try to see you keep this love affair going, day in and day out, even while you're changing her dirty diapers!"

"That's why we have you, Dean." Bobby smiled, "So that I can love her and you can clean up after her."

...

There were reports that John had surfaced in Tallahassee. Sans Sam.

"It don't mean there's anything wrong." Bobby assured Dean.

Dean nodded, ran a hand over his face. "Yeah. Ya know, he's 18 now. Maybe he's at college. That's what he always said he wanted to do. Didn't want anything to do with the family business."

And when he hung up the phone looking absolutely wrecked, Josie pulled him into a hug, "It's okay. It's like you said, he's at college." She soothed.

He nodded, his face white, "I know. I know. I just wish I _knew_."

Josie always joked that their marriage never really 'took' because they never had a honeymoon. "When are you planning to make an honest woman of me?" She'd ask.

They'd been dealing with an infant, Josie was going to night school for nursing and Dean was working six day weeks, trying to make ends meet.

Even if they had the time, they didn't have the money.

But their anniversary was coming up and Josie was graduating later that year as well. Dean wanted to do something big. Maybe they'd finally take that honeymoon.

He was on his way to work, Monday morning, _"It's 96.9 Chicago's classic rock station and starting this week, we have a really rockin' contest for you! Be the 27th caller whenever you hear one of the Beach Boys' classic tunes and you will be entered to win an all expense paid trip to Santa Cruz, California and two tickets to the Beach Boys 'Surfin' Safari' reunion tour! Official rules on our website. So get those cell phones ready! And now back to the music.._."

Beach Boys? Not so much, but an all expense paid trip to sunny California? Hell yes.

So all week, Dean faithfully listened for every opportunity to call in. No matter what he was doing, he'd find a quiet spot where he would dial until his fingers were raw.

But some woman named Roxanne Sumner won them. Damn it. Dean uncharitably hoped that Roxanne and her husband drowned while they frolicked on the sandy beaches of Santa Cruz. Yeah, screw you Roxanne.

"_I wish they all could be California girls... and the northern girls, with the way they kiss, they keep their boyfriends warm at night..._" Josie hummed softly under her breath as the waitress brought them their deserts.

"So... I got you a surprise." She said, her eyes big and smile slightly nervous, "Don't know if you'll like it..."

"Of course I will!"

She bit her lip as she reached into her bra and pulled out an envelope.

"Ooh. It's warm." Dean winked as he tore open the envelope. "Holy shit." He muttered as he stared at the plane tickets in his hands, "You're kidding me!"

"I won that contest... on the radio. I know you hate flying... but you'll do it for me, right? And, uh, the prize included tickets to a-"

"Beach Boys concert..." He finished. "Roxanne?"

She laughed at the pseudonym she'd used, "You liked that? I didn't want you to hear that I'd won. Ruin the surprise."

He grinned and shook his head. "I should have known." He leaned over and kissed her. "Damn it. I got you something too but it's not a trip to California..."

"Where is it?" She asked when he didn't reach for anything.

"Uh uh." He shook his head and leaned back in his chair with a smirk on his face, "I think it's something you should open... later." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ooh." She winked. "So you finally got me that male stripper?"

...

One of Josie's friends agreed to house sit and take care of Charly while they were on their trip.

The hotel was nicer than anything either of them had ever stayed at, with room service and chocolates on their pillows every night.

The beach was just outside their door and the weather was gorgeous. Or so the concierge told them. They didn't leave their room much.

Nine months later, Charly got herself a baby brother. Michael (Mickey) Dean Winchester. Named after Dean Martin, of course.

...

It was painful when he realized that he almost hadn't recognized the man sitting at his table

"Sammy?" He asked, his voice coming out as barely more than a squeak.

Sam, who had been chatting with Josie at the kitchen table, twisted his head around at the sound of Dean's voice. "Dean!" He exclaimed, "You're looking good, man!" He exclaimed, pushing his chair back and rising to greet his brother.

Dean stiffened slightly as his brother wrapped his arms around him in a hug, "Whoa man, let me get a look at you." He said pushing his brother away and stepping back. "Where'd you get that limp?" He asked, his eyes filled with concern.

It wasn't that Sammy's looks had changed all that much in six years. Thing was, it was hard for Dean to reconcile the awkward sixteen year old that he remembered with the twenty-two year old man who now stood nearly a head taller than him.

"Twisted my ankle when I tripped over that tricycle in your driveway." He joked.

"Do you need an ice pack or an ace bandage?" Dean asked skeptically. "Does it hurt?"

"Nah. Only when I laugh." He looked over at Josie and winked. As if they had an inside joke.

...

"Wow. Just... wow." Sam grinned so wide it looked like his face might break.

"What?" Dean asked, finding it hard not to smile at the expression on Sam's face.

"Wow. Uh, just, dude. You're living in the 'burbs!"

"And don't you ever let me hear you say that word again!" Dean snapped, swiping Sam's beer and finishing it off.

Sam chuckled, "Driving up, I noticed that white picket fence in the back."

"Yeah, whatever. It came with the house. I didn't put it there... and it keeps the kids safe in the yard."

"Safe." Sam snorted.

...

"Hey Josie, do you mind giving us bros a chance to catch up?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Sure." She nodded. "You need me, I'll be putting Mickey to bed."

"Thanks hon." Dean said, his eyes following her as she left the room, "So." He said turning to face Sam, "What happened?"

"When?"

"Your number changed. I couldn't call you- just kept getting the same freakin' message about the number being disconnected. I've spent the last six years worried outta my mind about you and Dad. So, what the hell happened?"

Sam stared at the condensation forming on his beer bottle, he cleared his throat. "Yeah. Right. Dad... Dad and I had a fight. I was pretty pissed...so I told him you had asked me to leave with you...and I told him I wanted out. Was gonna take you up on your offer."

Dean groaned.

"Yeah. Well, as you can probably guess, he didn't take that too well. He uh, he knew you were calling from pay phones and that you didn't have an address so he changed our phones so I uh, you couldn't call me."

"Son of a bitch." Dean growled.

Sam huffed. "Yeah. He was still pretty... things were still pretty rough from when you left. I think he later regretted it. But you know, what could he do?"

"He could try to find me... I wasn't exactly hiding. I mean, you found me here!"

"Yeah. Well, you know dad. Stubbornest bastard I ever met. Never once heard him admit he was wrong 'bout anything."

"Why did it take you six years to find me, Sam? I had Bobby looking for you. He said Dad was spotted 'bout four years ago but you weren't with him. You go to college?"

"No."

"No? Just 'No'?"

"Dad needed me."

"What the hell, Sam? 'Dad needed you'? College was your dream. Who the hell are you and what have you done with my brother?"

"You didn't have to live with Dad after you left, I did. I saw what it did to him and I... and I couldn't. I couldn't leave him too."

"So help me God, Sam, I've wanted to see you for years but I swear, all I wanna do right now is knock out your teeth." He clenched his fists until he could feel his fingernails drawing blood, "You were there Sam, you heard what he said to me! What he called me- what he called _Jocelyn_! I was devastated, man! So if he felt like shit, then I'm sorry, but he's the one who told me to never come back!"

"Dean, please-" Sam began.

"No! You didn't go to college? Well shit, I'm sorry, but that was your own goddamn choice! Don't you put that on me! Why did you even come here? What do you want from me?"

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean for this conversation to go this way. I didn't want to blame you or make you feel guilty."

"No one's forcing you to say shit."

"Look Dean, I didn't see how any of this affected you because you were gone. I only saw Dad. And Dad needed me. I know he kicked you out but he reacted in anger, he didn't mean half of what he said to you."

"Why did you come, Sam?"

"No." Sam said, rising, "It doesn't matter. I don't need your help."

"Don't you dare." Dean growled, grabbing Sam's sleeve and pulling him back into his chair. "What do you want from me?"

Sam glared at his brother. Took a couple moments to consider if he wanted to tell Dean. "Dad's missing." He said quietly, "And he hasn't been home in a couple of days."

"How is that any different than always?"

Sam sighed impatiently, "He won't answer his phone-"

"He's probably having a bit of quality time with Jack and Jose. Don't worry, Sammy, he'll come stumbling back in a few days."

"No, something is wrong. I can feel it... Come on man, I need your help." Sam pleaded.

"Look Sam, dad wanted nothing to do with me and to-"

"I'm not asking you for dad's sake, I'm asking because I need your help. Dad's all I have Dean, I gotta find him."

And yeah, that one hit pretty low.

"Dad was on a hunt." Sam explained, "I'm worried that he was killed by whatever he was hunting."

Dean chewed on his lip as he looked at the newspaper clippings Sam had set in front of him. "Sam," he sighed, "Dad always left for weeks on end. He'd say he'd be gone for a coupla days and he'd be gone for a month."

"Anyway," Sam ignored Dean's comment, "Dead or not, this is a good place to try to pick up his trail..."

"Yeah, I don't know." Dean said wistfully, "I got a job here. I can't just pick up and leave the family..."

"Just a couple of weeks Dean. Please. I can't do this alone."

...

Dean had often wondered what his life would look like if he hadn't decided to come back to Josie.

Probably an alcoholic, womanizer on the fast track to hell- if any of the other hunters he'd known were any indication.

His life was good- His wife, his kids, his job. He missed Sam. Missed him like hell. Sometimes he really missed the thrill of the hunt, missed the times when it was him and Sam and the Impala, the road stretching for miles in front of them.

He missed his dad too- missed having a hero- missed being a hero. Hell, he missed Sam's bitching about the motel rooms and crappy diner food.

It wasn't that Dean wasn't happy or didn't appreciate what he had, but sometimes he missed what he used to be. And sometimes he felt freakin' useless, sitting around being normal while people around him died by creatures that belonged solely in their nightmares.

He wanted to be content with what he had so bad that it ached. He didn't want to be the guy who could never find what he was looking for. Didn't want to be the guy who only saw what he didn't have.

But it would just be a week. Maybe two. Sam needed his help. Sam needed him. And it would be good for him- he could feel the thrill rising in his chest- to have a taste of hunting again. To take a break from routine and feel the adrenaline of the hunt.

...

Dean found Josie in the bedroom, he shut the door behind himself.

"So," He sighed, "I'm gonna be going with Sam for about two weeks. We'll see how things go."

"What's going on?"

"I don't know." He said. "...'cording to Sam, Dad went missing nearly a week ago. Won't answer his phone and none of Sam's contacts have seen him."

"Why does Sam need you? I mean," She hastened to defend, "your history with your dad...and Sam hasn't spoken to you in six years... but he comes back now? This isn't right, Dean. You deserve better."

Dean shook his head, his shoulders slumped. The words Dad had said to him still hurt. Not as much as they once had, not as much as they had back when he actually believed they were true. He wanted to see his dad again, wanted him to take his words back.

"I think it will be good. For Sam and me. Don't worry honey, it'll be alright. I'll call you, let you know how things are going... are you good with this?"

She laughed softly, "Don't know that it matters."

He looked at her, horrified, "Why would you say that?"

She shrugged, "If I were to say absolutely not, I don't want you doing this, would you tell your brother to take a hike?"

He hesitated, his mouth slightly open, "I want you to be okay with this. I really do. Josie. But this is my dad, my brother and they need my help... this is something I've gotta do..." He ran a hand over his face and sighed, it was several moments before he spoke again, "But yes, if this is a hill you'll die on, then I'll tell him to find someone else to help him."

She wrapped her arms around her chest, bit her lip, "Just call me, okay?"

His eyebrows shot up, "Yeah! Of course, you know I will! And I swear, I'll be back in two- three weeks tops."

She trembled later that evening when she kissed him goodbye, and found it hard to fall asleep that night and the next. She had a bad feeling about this and she wondered if Dean was going to be coming back.

If, when he did, he'd be the same man.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **A Pocket Full of Mumbles (Such are promises)

**Beta:** Beckalooby

**Characters/Pairings: **Dean, Sam, John, Bobby, OFC. Dean/OFC.

**Summary: **For LJ Hoodie-Time h/c Fic & Art Challenge. Prompt- _Dean left his family when he was 18. 8 years later he is living the apple-pie life with a woman that he loves and their two children, until his estranged brother Sam comes to ask for his help in the search for their father. Dean disappears with his brother and isn't heard from again, until he suddenly returns 3 years later. Battered and broken on his family's doorstep… _

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warnings:** Language, angst, mild innuendo, emotionally abusive!John, character deaths (canon deaths done in non-canon ways)

* * *

><p><strong>Three Years Later<strong>

He swayed unsteadily. The face in front of him blurring in and out of focus.

He felt her arms around him, keeping him upright. Comforted by her warm breath on his neck.

"Hey, hey." She said as he felt himself slipping, "Come on, don't pass out on me."

He leaned heavily on her as she draped his arm over her shoulder and led him into her home. What had once been their home. "I'm gonna call an ambulance." She said.

"No, don't. Please." He slurred. "Please." He repeated.

...

Josie managed to drag him to the middle of her living room when his knees decided to give out. "Oh shit." She muttered. Gently laid him on the ground. "Okay." She murmured, "I can't leave you there."

She put her hands on her waist and stared down at him. "Shit." She said again. She knelt down beside him, checked his pulse. "Come on." She murmured, slapping his face. Still he remained unconscious.

Glancing out the window, she noticed Eric, the guy who'd just moved in across the street, putting out the garbage. He was strong- he could probably help.

And, she thought with a grin, dual purpose of finally proving that she did have a husband. Maybe the jackass would stop hitting on her.

"Eric!" She called from her front porch.

He looked up from his garbage cans, started walking towards her. "Hey Jo." A smile spread across his features, "How ya' doin'?" His drawl was always more pronounced whenever he spoke to her.

"Uh, well, I'm not sure yet." She said a little breathlessly, "My husband's passed out on my living room floor and I need help getting him to the couch... or the bed. Or you know... somewhere... not on my living room floor." She smiled tightly. "And I saw you... if it's not too much to ask, of course."

...

"Your 'husband', you said?" Eric asked, trying to sound casual, as they walked back to the house.

"Well, you know, I got those two kids from somewhere!" She laughed.

"Yeah... but I didn't think he was still around..."

"Mmm." She hadn't really asked him to think anything. She didn't want to share too much, didn't want him making judgments on the state of her marriage. Didn't want him thinking that because her husband had disappeared two years ago that he had a chance in hell with her.

...

"Wow. He's. a. big. guy." He said as he strained to lift Dean up.

"Yeah. All muscle." And it looked like he'd gained even more since she'd last seen him. "Want some help? You get the head and I get the legs?"

"Nah." He grunted, "I think I got him. Been benching 100lbs lately...ugh."

"Yeah, well he's 200... I hear the fireman carry is quite effective." She offered.

"Umm.. not sure that I know that one."

"Okay, well let me demonstrate." She said, going through the motions until he had the concept figured out. "I've never actually had to do this after I got certified... it's kinda difficult for me because I'd have to pull him upright in order to get him over my shoulders.. you know?"

She stepped back and watched as Eric managed to drag Dean to his feet, pulling him up and over his back. He grinned, "S'not so hard!"

...

His fever remained far too high and Josie found it more and more difficult to come up with reasons to honor Dean's wishes not to be hospitalized.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, only occasionally capable of discerning what was real and what was a dream.

Sometimes he'd wake with his brother's name on his lips, only to be replaced by an expression of complete devastation when he would see that the hands that were tending him were not Sam's.

_Yeah, well, screw you._She'd think because it stung. The realization that Dean would rather be with Sam. Speaking of the Devil, where was Sam? She wasn't sure she could ever forgive him for taking her husband away. Even if, rationally, she knew Sam couldn't be blamed entirely.

And sometimes it was hard to remember that Dean was delirious- maybe she shouldn't hold his fevered words against him. It was hard to remember.

Dean had always been a man of responsibilities, it was what had attracted her to him. But sometimes he had a hard time figuring out what those responsibilities were.

**Two and a half years ago...**

_'For Dean - to be opened after my death.' The note on the manila envelope read. Dean blinked back his tears and glanced over his shoulder to see if Sam was watching. Sam was busy looking at a stack of dusty books that were piled on the shelves._

_He drew a shaky breath and tore open the envelope, reached inside and pulled out a cassette tape. "Hey Sam," Dean said, turning around, "I'm gonna head out to the Impala." He waved the cassette tape. "Found this so I'm gonna see what it is."_

_Sam raised an eyebrow, "S'that from Dad?"_

_"Yeah." Dean nodded, "Don't follow me, okay?" Dean said as Sam began to make like he was going to join him._

_"Uh, yeah. Okay. Sure. I'll be right here."_

_Dean's smile didn't reach his eyes, "Sounds good. Let me know what you find."_

...

_The goosebumps on his skin were not from the cold leather seats. His breath was shallow and part of him wanted to throw the tape to the pavement and smash it with the heel of his boot.. He didn't want to know what final message his father had left him. Was terrified of what he'd say._

_After nearly ten minutes gathering together his nerve, he forced himself to pop it in. Pushed play and closed his eyes._

_Took another calming breath._

_The tape crackled a bit, past several moments of empty space... finally there was dad's voice. Rough, maybe a little more rough than the last time Dean had heard it. God, had it been seven years already? "Hey Dean..." a nervous chuckle, "God, I don't know how to do these things... I guess if you're listening to this then I'm dead." He snorted as if he found that hilarious. "Unless you've been digging around where you shouldn't be... Look Dean, I know we both said things we regret." A pause, "At least I know I did. It all seems so stupid now. I'm sorry I'm telling you this stuff on a cassette tape. I know it's cowardly of me. Hopefully you'll never have to hear this tape... I hope I get to talk to you in person. But in case I don't, I want you to know, son, that I love you. I know I never really knew how to say it and I know I'll never win any father of the year awards but..." He sighed heavily._

_"You know when ... when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen I'd be... I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you put your hand on my shoulder, you'd look me in the eye and... you'd say "it's okay, Dad." Dean... I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put... I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know... that I am so proud of you..."_

_Dean flipped the tape off. He buried his head in his hands and just focused on breathing._

_Why did Dad have to wait till he was dead to tell him this stuff? He knew there was more on the tape but he was almost tempted to leave it where it was. Half expected to hear a 'but' after the 'I'm so proud of you.'_

_Nevertheless, he turned it back on and continued listening, "...I've got a pretty good lead on the Demon. I think this might be it. However, I've made arrangements making sure that you get this if I get taken down... this is too important to get lost under a pile of dust in a storage room... Dean, I need you to watch after Sammy. The Demon... The Demon has plans for Sam. I'm not sure exactly what they are but I do know they ain't good. I need you watch after him. You need to save him and if you can't... God, this is hard... if you can't save him son, you're gonna have to kill him. If I'm dead, I won't be there to do it myself."_

_"You're a good man, Dean. I have every confidence that you will save your brother. Don't let him hear this, Dean. It would devastate him. He has no idea of any of this. Pass it on to him that I love him and you two boys... stick together._

_"So uh... I don't really know how to end this..." John chuckled, "Okay. Goodbye. I'm just gonna... okay, I'm just gonna click it off now. Goodbye."_

_..._

_Sam saw the change in his brother after Dean came back from the Impala and it frightened him._

_Dean drank more, said less, and didn't sleep at all._

_In fact it was nearly a week before Dean said anything to his brother at all except for, "We should stop for food." Or "Gotta fill up with gas."_

_When Sam asked what Dad had said on the tape, Dean just grinned insincerely, "Oh you know Dad, didn't say much. Said he loved us... told me to pass that on to you."_

_When Sam asked why Dean wasn't leaving, why he wasn't returning back to his family like he'd said he would, Dean replied that, "That yellow eyed son of a bitch is still out there, Sammy. I'm not leaving until that bastard is slithering right back where it came from."_

_And Sam would wonder again what John had said on the tape._

...

Other times Dean would ramble fevered, incoherent apologies, repenting for everything from not fixing the shingles on the roof to still being alive to forgetting to lay the salt lines. Sometimes Josie wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for.

"Where's Sammy?"

"Shhh... it's okay."

His expression registered no recognition, "Sammy?"

"No...not Sam. It's me, Josie." Her hands were gentle on his forehead.

Eyes wide, a look of bewilderment and pain, "Where's Sam?"

Josie gently pushed his shoulder back down, onto the bed, as he tried to sit up.

"Gotta find Sammy... gotta watch out for Sammy..." He begged, his voice barely a whisper.

**Five Days Earlier**

_"Keep your fucking hands off my brother! "_

_"Oh yeah? Or what? Huh, what's the great Dean Winchester gonna do about it?"_

_Dean struggled harder against the invisible force that had him pinned to the wall. He gasped for air as icy, unseen fingers curled around his throat, squeezing until his eyes burned and the blood vessels underneath his skin burst._

_He drew in sharp, panicked breaths of air as the fingers loosened. He tried to lift his hand to massage his neck but his arms remained paralyzed._

_Azazel laughed, "This really is too much fun. I enjoy yanking your chain, Dean. I'm not gonna hurt little Sammy! Why would I do that? No, no, no! Sam and I, we have places to go, peoples to see! Yes, Samuel WInchester is going to be a name that will be remembered in history books."_

_Dean glanced over at Sam, didn't know what Sammy was planning but recognized the silent 'keep him distracted' expression that Sam gave him. He smirked up at the demon, "Oh yeah? That's interesting. Well, let me tell you exactly what's gonna happen.." He glanced over at Sam... "You can take your plans and shove them-" He screamed in pain as Azazel sliced through his skin._

_His vision blurred in and out as the searing pain continued. All he could hear was the rushing of blood in his ears. Above it, he heard Sam's voice, strong and assured, "Leave him alone- it's me you want- leave my brother out of this!"_

_Dean looked over at his brother, eyes filled with fear._

_Sam continued, ignoring Dean's silently communicated pleas to not do anything stupid. "You want a piece of my ass, you want me to lead your demon 'army'... well, if I agree to this, you're gonna have to promise me a couple things."_

_The smile on Azazel's face widened, "We both know that I can make you do whatever I want but let's pretend for a moment that I am in a generous mood and willing to make you a deal... what exactly are these conditions of yours?"_

_Dean felt the force that had been pinning him loosen, crumpling to a heap on the ground. He weakly lifted his head up off the ground, his eyes flicking to where the colt lay._

_Just a few feet away._

_Sam, "...you let my brother go..."_

_His fingers struck the cool steal of the gun barrel._

_"...ensure the safety of his..."_

_He gripped it tightly in his hands, lifted himself painfully to his feet_

_He didn't hear Sam's suddenly cut off breath, didn't notice anything until all of a sudden he was flying across the room, the gun clattering noisily to the ground. The demon's laughter made him want to puke._

_"You know what, Sammy? I don't think any deals will be being made." He said, flinging Dean against the wall. Dean felt a slow burning horror as his body began riding up the wall, towards the ceiling._

_"You wanna see your brother burn, Sam? Just like mommy? You probably don't remember that, do you? You wanna know the smell of burning flesh?"_

_He turned to face Dean._

_"Hey look at me, you son of a bitch," Sam yelled hoarsely. The demon turned back around, a grin on his face. Letting Dean, once again, fall to the ground. Sam turned his eyes to his brother, "Dean, I'm sorry, but we both know this is what has to be done." He explained, his eyes filling with tears._

_And in a move neither Dean nor the Demon had seen coming, Sam pulled a knife out from behind his back, drew it up and plunged it deep into his chest. "Fuck you." He whispered as he fell._

_Dean screamed._

_He never remembered what happened next, but when he regained consciousness hours later, the Yellow Eyed Demon lay dead at his feet, a bullet wound to his head._

...

And then other times, his more lucid times, he would wake up and remember.

And he'd cry because he had failed Sam.

He cried because Sam was dead... and it should have been him. It should have been him who had fucking died. He'd look at the woman who still called herself his wife and wondered what she saw in him that made her willing to let him back into her home.

Because it wasn't just Sam and Dad that he had failed- he had failed Josie and he had failed his children. God, he had never felt so undeserving and worthless in his life. And he couldn't help but think that the life he had had should have been Sammy's.

Sammy had deserved it. Sammy wouldn't have screwed it up.

He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to fix things between him and Josie. Wondered if she'd kick his ass to the curb when and if he ever recovered (and maybe that's why she was fixing him up: So that she could kick his ass.)

...

Damp, sticky fingers on his face. Touching his eyelashes, his lips. Hot breath, smelling of cheerios, on his face.

"Mickey!" The hands jerked away. "I told you to stay out of here!"

Dean's eyes popped open. _Mickey._He found himself staring into wide, golden green eyes. Cheeks flushed and covered in grape jam. Dark, tangled curls that look like they haven't seen a pair of scissors in a great while.

Mickey's mouth formed a big 'O', "Oops!" He mouthed, twisting around to face his mother, "S'already awake!" He defended. Stiffened slightly, waiting for the strange man on the bed to call him out on his lie.

Dean shifted his gaze, unable to meet her eyes, "I suppose he doesn't know who I am." He said hoarsely.

"Really? You don't think I'd tell him about you?"

"Oh." He whispered, unsure of what to say.

"I thought you were coming back." She pressed the cool rag onto his forehead. The gentleness of her hands in contrast to the hardness in her voice. "Thought it was just gonna be a couple weeks. Then it was a couple months. Then a couple more months." She paused to turn her eyes away, "I thought you'd come back." She repeated.

He wanted to argue his excuses, explain to her his reasons but at the moment they seemed small and insulting in the face of her pain. And he felt weary and exhausted. Didn't want the screaming or the crying that had marked all of their telephone conversations in the weeks preceding the last time they had spoken.

He didn't know how he'd make any of this right, wondered if he should even try. Maybe they would be better off if, as soon as he was able, he just left.

...

"Here, drink this." She said, changing the subject. "Your fever still hasn't gone down. If you have an infection, I'm taking you to the hospital."

"Why do I need a hospital? You're a nurse- you can take care of..." His voice trailed off because how could he ask her to let him in her house, much less take care of him. "I'm sorry." He turned his head away.

"For what?" She asked as if she didn't freakin' get it. Or as if she wanted him to spell it out.

He shrugged, "Yeah. You probably should dump my ass at the hospital. You don't need to deal with me and my shit."

She shook her head, as if that was the most absurdly ridiculous thing she had ever heard. "Whatever." She muttered.

...

It had been a week since he'd come back. It was time he let Josie get back to her life, let her forget about him and move on. He had been out of his mind with grief and pain when he'd showed up at her doorstep. He hadn't been thinking straight. He shouldn't have come here.

He ignored the pain in his ribs as he slowly inched to the side of the bed, swinging his legs over the side, he managed to sit upright.

"Son of a bitch." He groaned in pain. Keeping a hand on the bedside table for support, he carefully put his weight on his bad leg. "Shit." He hissed. How had he managed to walk here?

White stars flashed behind his eyes as he pulled himself up to his feet, removing his support and attempting to walk towards the chair that had his leather jacket.

He let out a sharp cry of pain as his leg crumpled beneath him, sending him face-first into the carpet. _Damn it. She heard_. He thought, as he felt the vibrations of her footsteps nearing the bedroom door.

...

"You've been walking on this?" She asked, horrified.

He winced and bit back a cry of pain as she prodded at his leg, "It wasn't that bad before..."

"What are talking about? It's broken!"

He hated that he had given her further cause to worry about him. She shouldn't let herself care, he didn't deserve any of this. Why couldn't she just leave him the hell alone?

He grinned tightly, "High pain tolerance." He said through clenched teeth.

"I'm taking you to the doctor."

"No!" He exclaimed.

"Look, you've got lacerations all over your body, bruises on your neck, a broken leg, broken ribs. Who knows what kind of internal injuries..." Yeah, but he was alive, he thought. Whatever injuries he sustained, they were a hell of a lot better than Sam's. He struggled to retain his composure as he remembered watching the life bleed out of his brother's eyes.

His breath was shallow his face was white, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Just breathe, come on Dean, calm down!"

"He killed himself!" Dean gasped out, covering his face with his hands and sobbing.

"Oh God. I'm sorry Dean." She whispered as she rubbed circles against his back. Let him lay his head on her lap where he sobbed until he fell into another uneasy sleep.

...

One of the doctors from the hospital she worked at- a good friend of hers- agreed to make a house call. Didn't ask questions, which was good because Jocelyn had no answers.

He had to re-brake Dean's leg, wrap a few ribs, and drown him in antibiotics. Give Dean a little bit of time, he said, and he would make a complete recovery. Maybe a slight limp caused by walking around on a broken leg.

Jocelyn was grateful. Dean didn't know what he was.

...

No matter what punishment she threatened Mikey with, she couldn't keep him out of his father's room. Didn't know if she wanted to.

She feared that he would grow attached and then Dean would leave again. Part of her wanted to believe these fears were unnecessary.

"I'm making him not scared." Mikey eventually explained one morning when she once again found him curled around his dad.

"What do you mean?" Josie asked as she lifted her four year old son off the bed. He squirmed a bit, trying to get back to where he had been comfortably resting against his father's chest.

"He was having a bad dream." He said earnestly.

At a loss for anything else to say, "Oh." Josie raised her eyebrows.

"Put me back. I wuv him." He said. "Pweeease." He added. Hoping the use of the 'magic word' would get him what he wanted.

Her son was already turning into quite the manipulative bastard.

...

Dean would wake up, sometimes with a foot in his face, sometimes with a head of hair in his mouth. Always with a warm body pressed up against his, keeping him grounded, giving him a reason to continue waking up.

...

"I don't know." He looked down at his hands, "I couldn't tell you what you wanted to hear so I just didn't call you at all."

"I wanted to hear that you were safe! I wanted to know that you were alive"

"I couldn't tell you that I was safe and sometimes I didn't know if I'd even be alive the next day. I couldn't tell you that..."

"God, I just wanted to hear _you_!"

He blinked back tears, "I didn't want to hear you." He whispered, "I couldn't keep telling you I wasn't coming home. I didn't want to hear your disappointment. I had to save Sammy- and talking to you made it so hard to stay away."

...

"You act like I wanted this!" Dean shouted, "What we had was _good_! I want what we had, I want it back! But you don't think you can trust me! I swear to God, Josie, I'm not going anywhere! I didn't want to leave you in the first place- I didn't want to miss out on your's or Charly's or Mikey's lives! I didn't just wake up one day and decide I didn't want to be here anymore... I had to save Sam! I had to save him!"

"It's so messed up." He sobbed, "Sam's dead, and I destroyed my family. I've destroyed every family I've ever had. God, what am I supposed to do, Josie? Tell me, I'll do anything!"

...

"Charly keeps asking about you."

"Well, where is she?" Dean asked, struggling to an upright position. "Are you gonna let me see her?"

"I don't know." Jocelyn pressed her lips together.

"I've spent the past three years trying to forgive you, Dean. And every birthday, every Christmas, every moment of your kid's lives that you missed, I had to try to forgive you all over again." She blinked back tears, "But you know what? I _want_to forgive you- I want your children to know you and I want to see you make things right. So...here's your chance."

She looked down at her hands, "I love you Dean. I think I always will... and I know you're a good man so... just..."

"I won't." He whispered in her hair, "I won't fuck this up. I swear. God...you know I love you, Josie."

**Epilogue**

Sam found himself lying in a field, his clothes damp, covered in mud.

"Huh." He said.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: <em>**_Thank you so much for reading! As you can see, I left it open for a sequel if inspiration strikes me and depending on if anyone would read it. So again, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think of it :) I am open to constructive criticism :)  
><em>


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